Stars In A Lake

A Selection

Nyoto gathered the last of the root she’d been tasked with finding before calling a quits. All morning she’d been searching for this impossible root, and finally, she had it. She knew the others would be pleased with her accomplishments, but still, she wondered why she’d been sent on such a tedious choir. She tied the prickly purple vine around the green globe like fruit then placed it in a sack she’d made from bamboo before strapping it to her thigh. She wore their traditional hunting attire; a look that she was rather fond of. Far different from what the commoners wore. the common woman modeled long draped silks, and tight bodice corsets. They enjoyed flaunting many different bright dies, strings of gold, and silvers entwined with pendants. Roped sandals that ran up their knees; which were usually hidden away. Her sisters did not care for such formalities. They wore breathable garments; usually, leggings made of thick wool or cotton paired with vines strung together to make wrappings for their bodice. They wore light clothes that enabled them to climb quickly if needed and swim with ease.

Nyoto had come to her frame as she came to age; long golden muscular legs stretched from her curvy frame. Her breast had developed into plump perky things that she tied close to her body to keep from flopping around while she was hunting. Her long curly locks were usually strung high in a tight bun or pulled back in a loose braid. Dark blue eyes that gave yearning to the sea separated her from the green eyes of the rest of her sisters. Her mother use to say it was a gift, and before the others had viewed it as a curse seeing she was always the weakest and slowest. With age that had changed, she had bloomed to be far better than they’d ever predicted.

She was easily one of the fastest and most talented fighters. The Louz used a fighting style that they called; MOTI. this was the study and use of pressure points. To learn this style they had to learn to allow their bodies to flow freely like water, falling into the weak spots of their opponents. Learning to move like water was what they did best. Nyoto just happened to be better than most. She had an eye for finding where the flow was interrupted, like how a new stream could fall into cracks and holes on its spiral down.

After the loss of her mother, she spent day and night living up to the promise she made to Moja.

On restless nights she ran with the wolves and chased the stars, drifting along the midnight into the night she so loved. The nights were always kind to her. Even with the respect, her sisters had for her, she always stood so distant from them. They cheered her on and tried hard to make up for the sacrifice made by Mwazi to save them all, but still, she was lonely. No matter how hard she tried her heart would not let her settle into their new lives. She wasn’t content with waiting peacefully in the safety of this haven for this war to end. She hated not being a part of the fight against those who stole her mother. She knew this was not the way of the Louz. They were taught understanding and forgiveness. It was that peace that helped their magi flow through them with ease. Still, she had a burning hole that grew day by day as the war persisted.

Nyoto had yet to accept the burden that came with her new home. The Louz knew well of man’s wars, and after years of running and hiding, they had been given sanctuary in the walls of Partige. A stronghold of never-ending land. They had been given land far from the commoners, but still within safe borders. With this came a price. For years they had made sure the soils were fertile with clean waters while still maintaining distance. With that, they were free to practice whatever they wanted. They knew little of the people’s politics; they knew the townspeople were strange; of many different colors and languages. Their king Antoni was a recent prince; and said to be a vicious and war-driven blood bathing monster. There were stories that he had been bathed in the blood of gods, acquiring many different powers. He was even more powerful than the Louz, but even with that he wasn’t like the barbaric Archang who still practice the sacrificing of babies and unborn to gain his powers. King Antoni was the lesser of evils, but still, the Louz kept their distance. Nyoto did not rest easy knowing this sacrifice.

Nyoto knew it was getting late and didn’t want to miss the night of song. She raced back and debated what song she’d sing when nights came. The light of day was dimming, but she’d still have time to play with the littles before supper. Through the forest, she met the borders of her small village. It was hidden well by trees, but still had plenty of flatlands; nothing like the forest she was born in. still it was what she called home. Treehouses dangled high, and mediums greeted her as she ran by.

“run blue!” a nickname given because of her blue eyes. She smiled up waving at the mediums that were her age. Some still going through trials and playing with poisons.

“as fast as the rapids!” they cheered basking in her greatness. Nyoto made her way to the flower fields where the littles were gardening. Some of them could barely walk but knew how to sow the crops and pick the ripe fruits by now. She picked up a naked little that was picking at a cabbage.

“you little heathen” the baby giggled at the familiar warm face

“you know not to pick up the littles” sister Ai shouted from the edge of the garden. Sister Ai was an elder, her job was to teach the littles and watch over them till they were ready for their first trials. Ai was easily one of the loudest of Louz, and her waist outgrew any regular-sized leggings. Therefore, she kept with the littles. Her body was far too wide for hunt and game. Sister Ai was unable to teach Nyoto when she was A little. Ai made her cry often, which hindered her ability to focus. Since then sister Ai wasn’t very fond of her. Especially when she came to the gardens to distract the new littles.

“oh, hush you hag” Nyoto kissed the little on the cheek before placing her back down. The other littles stopped what they were planting and reached up begging to be lifted and played with.

“later” Nyoto whispered “now get back to work” she high-fived them each before picking a strawberry. She bit into it as she ran from Sister Ai’s wrath. Nyoto greeted more of her sisters as she made her way to the only house in their village that didn’t hang in the trees but instead sprung up from the soil. This was her aunt Kubwa’s house. Kubwa was the leader here after her mother’s succession. Kubwa and Mwazi shared the same mother which made Kubwa her blood. They never got along, but for Nyoto, Kubwa’s presence was comforting.

When she cut a corner from behind the house, she was stopped by 2 large white horses. She’d seen a few wild horses, but rarely had she been this close to the ones ridden by man. She approached slowly, petting their snouts.

“you poor babies” she hated seeing them in these man-made reins. They were meant to be free, not trapped, and used for convenience.

“He likes apples” Nyoto jumped back at the deep sound of a man’s voice. She had never heard a man before; his voice was even deeper than Kubwa’s. he was tall and wore metal clothing. She wondered how uncomfortable he must be. He smiled at her, but she only stared. She examined him as she did when picking which apple to eat. He had hair weirdly sprouting from his chin, yet nothing on the top of his head. When she bored with staring at his yellow teeth, she walked past him into the shack.

Nyoto was a bit concerned about the lurking man outside her aunt’s shack. Nyoto wasn’t much for visitors; if her people kept their distance from the commoners they lived in peace. Still, the commoners were afraid of them; and she knew all too well what came with fear.

“Kubwa. Who are these males” she took no time to ask. The shack was small but filled with potions and roots from many lands. This was where her people found answers. Since Mwezi’s death, Kubwa had been leading the Louz. She was much younger than Mwezi by nearly 100 years but just as wise. Kubwa continued the teachings of Moja to the others as well as how to guide the elements in the water. She had assumed full responsibility for the future of the Louz.

Kubwa ignored her nieces’ disrespect, forgetting her place yet again. Kubwa was nearly 700 years old, so she had in time gained patience for such intolerance.

“This is nothing of your concern” she lied, Nyoto could always tell. She pulled the root from her thigh wrap and unwrapped it on the table Kubwa sat at. Kubwa was not some small fragile thing; she was quite large for a female. She towered over most in their tribe standing past 6 feet. Her limbs were long and muscular from training and hunting. She was more warrior than most, yet still, a beauty arose from her gentle caramel face. Although 700, she didn’t look past 30. Soft peach lips rested where she never smiled. some say she never learned how, but perhaps she was just unbothered with the joys of life when her goddess sent visions of death and darkness. Just like Mwezi she had been gifted the sights by the goddess. Looking into her deep green eyes would have anyone lost in limbo. One look from her could straighten any of the girls into place. She was feared and respected by all; except her niece.

In Nyoto’s earlier years Kubwa had to do a lot of straitening out. She was always arguing against Kubwa’s teaching. she was so full of questions but had no censor as to hold her tongue. Kubwa found many new ways to punish her niece for her disobedience, but they only made Nyoto more tactical and stronger. Everything Kubwa tried had the opposite effect. Instead of teaching her to obey, she learned to seek out answers in secret and with stealth and precision. Eventually, there was little that Kubwa could teach her, so she just let her seek out answers on her own. Only then was she able to truly appreciate her niece’s stubborn curiosity.

Nyoto did not like the blank stare protruding from her aunt's hardened face as she examined the odd root.

“Impossible” Kubwa grabbed the root and studied it closer. It was light in her hands and smelled like ashes. She was sure she had never encountered an herb like this, yet she’d read about its history many times. Even now as she cradled it, squeezing its bulb between her finger; it felt unreal.

Nyoto pulled a seat and began unpacking the other roots and herbs she had collected and tied to various hiding places in her clothes.

“I mean it took forever” Nyoto hadn’t looked over at her troubled aunt who was now staring off into a pit of sadness “but I knew I couldn’t return empty-handed and give you the satisfaction of being right”

Kubwa had always told Nyoto that she wasn’t as good or special as she thought; bringing her down from the stool she presented herself on. Kubwa wasn’t always the kindest and had been rather hard on her niece, but with reason. She had promised her sister to always keep her safe; and if her suspicions were correct, then she had to train her twice as hard as the others for what was to come.

This root wasn’t just any old dragon root found in the vines. This was a rare root that hadn’t been seen in centuries. It was called the Flukial root. It was said to have originated from one of the first flowers that bloomed with creation. The root disappeared as man had appeared only to be revealed by sacred energies and powers. Even the gods had lost it centuries ago.

Kubwa mashed the root in her herb bowl hoping it would turn to dust, but it didn’t. Instead, it sprouted a blue cloud that burst into rainbows of color

“What are you brewing now” Nyoto was amused by the colors and satisfied with her findings. Kubwa grabbed Nyoto’s hand and locked her eyesight. She searched for anything that would explain this misunderstanding but knew all too well that this was no mistake.

“They are here for you.” it took only seconds for Nyoto to snatch her hand back. Kubwa still search her eyes for answers, knowing it was too late. She should have told her years ago, but now the time had come.

“Why would the kings’ men be here for me” Nyoto joked uncomfortably pulling her hands back. There were so many cattle and forests between the louz and the townspeople that they often forgot that the land they called home was not theirs. There were not even those who wondered this far; too afraid of what lay beyond; ghost stories and bedtime horrors.

“Their king is going to war; a war that will hopefully be the end to this century-long war. And end to Archang.” she stood walking over to a bookshelf to retrieve something barely hidden. Nyoto had always loved to read the many spellbooks in Kubwa’s shack. They were in many different languages; which the louz had been taught from birth. Nyoto loved combing through the pages and finding ancient spells that brought storms or eased a mother’s labor. Still, she’d never seen this binding; and she was sure she’d seen them all. A thick gold and blue cover smacked down heavily In front of her. It was in a language of symbols, one she barely remembered. Nyoto wiped the dust from the bindings as her aunt pushed them into her hands.

“This war is not theirs alone” Kubwa walked around collecting other articles from the room and throwing them on the table. A crystal dagger and crescent pendant being a part of the collection.

Kubwa was being frantic, rushing to gather all she needed. She had prayed against this day, but there was no time left. “The goddess has pushed for our involvement”

“Yea, but what does that have to do with me” Nyoto was shifting through the items. She remembered the crescent; her mother use to wear it. She hadn’t been wearing it the day she had left them, but she remembered her mother had worn it often. She grabbed it and played with the pendant; it was not solid, But instead more of an empty container. It was meant to hold spiritual waters.

Kubwa wasn’t quite sure of everything, but she knew “you must be a magi advisor and ally on the journey for the king. You must aid him in defeating Archang”

these words pulled Nyoto from her seat as she pushed the clutter away.

“What do you speak of auntie” a name she only called her when angry “you would hate me so much to sacrifice me to those men” she flung her hand and then slammed the table.

“I do not lie child” she did not hate her and was rather insulted by the comment. She had lived to protect and prepare her for this moment. The never-ending war, that needed an end. Now tears were rolling from Nyoto’s cheeks, as she realized the items on the table were for her departure.

“You cannot do this”

“I do not have the power” strong powerful hands pulled hot water from a tea kettle and wrapped it around Nyoto’s neck, tightening like a rope, lifting her from where she stood.

“This is no longer a game” the water tightened, making Nyoto gasp for air. “You will do your part. The war is no longer in the distance, it is here. Can you not see that. Do you not understand our place in this?” she released letting Nyoto fall hard to the ground. Kubwa kneeled next to her lifting her chin.

“This is what we prepared for you must understand that” her voice now calms and within reason. “If we do not help, we are all doomed. If Antoni is not the victor in this, I fear the end to all we know”

“But why me” tears had stopped but her voice was muffled and shaky.

“Can’t you see? Surely you know you are chosen by Moja. Even today the signs are all aligned.” she pointed to the remaining root on the table. “You know more of our text, and history than any other” Nyoto had taken a particular interest in the study “you know the lay of the lands and how to move around in silence” this was also true; a gift she’d perfected

“This isn’t a choice my love. This is the reality.” She looked down at the beautiful warrior her sister's unruly child had become. Even now she wanted to fight against her. even as she was giving her the opportunity she knew she so badly craved. She knew Nyoto spent her night waiting to be freed from these borders. She knew awaiting the war was not easy for Nyoto. Still, it pained Kubwa to have to let her go this way. She was still her blood and what remained of her sister. She saw so much of Mwezi in her. from her curiosity and stubbornness to the way her eyes called to the moon.

Kubwa reached out to help her niece up.

“Listen to me, for once. I beg” this was all she needed to say, Nyoto had lost all protest

“these will guide you on your journey. I will take you there. But after that my child” she began packing the items into her favorite sack, looking back at her lost Nyoto “you will be at the hands of Moja” with much conviction, she believed her goddess would protect her niece.

“you must say your goodbyes, and I will take you to him” Nyoto understood, nodding her head and straining her face erasing all signs of weakness.

“if I say goodbye it will be harder to leave” she admitted. Kubwa nodded, understanding where she was coming from.

“then we shall be on our way now”.